Healing Hermann Hesse Lyrics

Hermann wants to eat nicotine. Sometimes.
He asks for a lot.
He paces space to make himself nervous
because some people are just better at surviving than living.
If you want to get heavy he'll teach you.
He knows it.
He spends his time falling from the weight.
He's got a lead brain.
It's a battle magnet.
He carries it around by the guilt straps
don't laugh-

you didn't see the size of the blizzard that birthed him.
fits of snow, cotton rocks, whipped white bullet stretches
pinned with chips of teeth to his habbit of crying for help.
he doesn't land well-
hates landing-
it reminds him of not living up.

listen-
I know there were days you wanted to die.

Hermann will not bow down to gravity.
Falling, he catches up to himself in mid-air just before the ground smacks.
Pullthroats, they call it.
Sharp turner.
Nothing touches the ground here.
Ground is a capacity.
He sees that.
He falls back
He patches parachutes together with a kite knife
It's big enough to raise him in the up drafts
where he hides himself away in angles of air
outlined by his knack for believing that this life..

it's gonna work itself out.